


Seducement

by QueenNeehola



Category: The Last Story
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNeehola/pseuds/QueenNeehola
Summary: Just howdidLowell get the guard to "forget" he saw anything?(Set during chapter 18, when Zael and co. accompany Horace through the secret passage in the jail cell and Lowell stays behind.)





	Seducement

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so i'm replaying this game, and it's not just me who thinks it's _definitely_ implied that lowell flirted with the guard to keep him quiet, right? of course, my mind immediately went to the gutter...
> 
> i know in the actual game there are other dudes in the cell, to sell you shit etc., but for the sake of this fic, let's just pretend there aren't...

Lowell stiffened as he heard footsteps approaching.  Nervously, his eyes slid over to the hole in the wall that Zael and the others had crawled out through: it had been roughly covered over, and all was still quiet behind it.  Clearly, his companions weren’t coming back any time soon.  _Well, shit._

Lowell rose to his feet and shuffled over to the bars of the cell, gripping two of them between sweaty palms and putting on his best amicable smile just as a prison guard stopped in front of him.

“Hello there,” Lowell greeted.  He tried to take up as much space in the guard’s line of sight as possible—a futile effort considering the size of the prison cell, but he didn’t have any better ideas.  Sweat beaded on his brow.  All the guards wore the same uniform with the helmet covering their entire face, so it was impossible to tell if this was one of the ones who had come to do the rounds before—or if he had noticed Lowell was alone.

The guard was silent a moment, and Lowell stopped breathing.  This was it, it was over, it had been a stupid idea anyway…then, “All well, I presume?” the guard said.  He sounded young; unfamiliar.  Lowell tried not to sag _too_ obviously against the bars.

“Yes, sir, we’re just—” Lowell began, gesturing with one hand, and then stopped dead as he watched the guard’s helmet shift, the eyes beneath following Lowell’s movement.  Ah.  Well.  He probably shouldn’t have done that, in retrospect.  It happened instantly: the guard gasped and flinched back half a step, his hand going to the weapon at his waist.

“Wait!” Lowell hissed without thinking, gripping the bars and pulling himself closer to them.  Surprisingly, the guard waited.  His fingers hovered, twitching, above the hilt of his sword.  Lowell swallowed.  He needed a new plan.  “Wait,” he said again, voice softer, too aware of how quickly and how badly it could all go wrong.

“Where…where are your friends?” the guard asked.  His voiced pitched a little too high.  God, he _must_ have been new on the job.

“They’re—they’re coming back.”  Well, it wasn’t _technically_ a lie.  Or so Lowell hoped.  “They’re not breaking out.  They’re just…killing time.  Taking a little trip through a little hole in the wall for some fun.  They’ll be back any second.”  The guard’s figure remained taut.  “So, how about you don’t tell your boss about this, and I swear, the next time you come to check up on us we’ll be sitting in a circle like good little boys and girls, singing Kumbaya.”

“D-Don’t think you can weasel out of this, you—”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Lowell blurted out.

That made the guard falter.  Indignantly, he huffed, “So it’s bribery now!?  Well, I don’t want any money from a filthy—”

The fact that Lowell’s mouth worked quicker than his brain was a blessing in a lot of situations.  He wasn’t sure this was one of them.  “I wasn’t talking about money.”  Well, this was apparently a thing he was doing now.  Pressing himself as seductively as possible against the bars (which was a difficult feat), Lowell extended a hand through them, beckoning.  He lowered his voice to a practised purr as he said, “I’m a man of many talents.”  He winked.  The guard reached for his blade again.  Lowell paled.  Maybe the wink had been a little too much.  “Come on,” Lowell said, scrambling for a recovery, “I’ve seen the state of the mugs down here.  Wouldn’t touch ‘em with a ten-foot pole.  I bet you haven’t gotten a decent lay in a long time.”  The guard froze.  Lowell wished he could see his face—it would make this a lot easier.  “Five minutes—I’ll provide a nice wee bit of _stress relief_ , and then my friends’ll be back, and then you won’t even have anything to report about any more.  _And_ you’ll have gotten a nice bonus.”

It was ridiculous, it was an awful, _awful_ plan, but it was all Lowell had, and honestly, he’d done worse in his time.  To his mild shock, the guard actually seemed to be considering it, if his awkward fidgeting was anything to go by.

Lowell opened his mouth to spout some more innuendos, but before he could, the guard was up at the bars, gripping them just below Lowell’s own hands.  “Fine,” he ground out, and then, shakily, “fuck.”

Lowell was tempted to laugh.  He had _some_ small sense of self-preservation though, so he didn’t.  He dropped to his knees instantly, reaching through the bars for the lowest buttons of the guard’s jacket.  The guard recoiled a little at the grip on his coat, but Lowell worked quickly, unfastening just enough buttons to give him access.  Hesitantly, the guard took one side of the open fabric and held it away from Lowell’s face.  “Many thanks,” Lowell hummed, and unzipped the guard’s trousers, working his dick free with a questionably expert hand.  The guard gasped and bucked like a virgin at the touch.  He was already half-hard, Lowell noticed with amusement.

“Maybe try to keep your voice down,” Lowell murmured, lazily stroking the guard’s cock and watching it grow harder in his hand.  “You don’t want to attract any unwanted attention.”  He flicked his eyes up.  The guard’s head was angled down, the vacant mask of the helmet pointed straight at Lowell.  _That_ was gonna kill the mood.  “How about you flip your visor up, sweetheart?  At least let me see who’s cock I’m about to suck.”

The guard let out a loud breath through his nose but, surprisingly enough, did as Lowell said, his hand that had been gripping the bars moving to raise his visor, exposing his youthful face.  And, _fuck_ , he was even younger than Lowell had assumed—barely out of his teens, by the look of him.  Long eyelashes fluttered around his half-lidded brown eyes, and strands of helmet-sweaty chocolate hair stuck to his forehead.  He was a pretty young thing, would probably have half the guards dying to bed him if he didn’t wear the helmet, and Lowell suddenly felt a little bit bad for taking advantage of him.  Just a little bit, though.

“Mm, you’re a nice-looking lad,” Lowell crooned, palming the young guard’s cock a little harder.  He breathed in sharply, teeth worrying his plump bottom lip and eyebrows drawing together.  He looked vulnerable, and Lowell felt his own dick twitch in response.  “What’s your name?”

“Why—ah—should I tell you?” the guard hissed, going for imposing and missing by a mile.  It was adorable.

“So that when I get out of here, I know how to find you again.”

The guard flushed at that.  Red looked good on his cheeks.  “B-Bastian,” he said.

“Good,” Lowell replied.  “Come closer.”

Bastian did as he was told, fitting his hips snug against the cell bars.  His cock poked through, and Lowell took the head into his mouth.  Bastian yelped, then clapped a gloved hand over his lips, trying to stifle himself.  Lowell kept one hand gripping the base of Bastian’s shaft, and the other braced stubbornly against one of the bars to his left, ignoring the temptation to slip it between his own legs and jerk himself off.  He had to concentrate.

Taking more of Bastian into his mouth and focusing on getting into a steady rhythm, Lowell could feel the way the younger man was trembling.  That, as well as his blushing and stammering, made Lowell think maybe this was his first time getting his cock sucked.  God, with how young he was, maybe he had never even been kissed before, and wasn’t _that_ a weird thought.  But Lowell had to hand it to him: a guard taking a stranger’s, a _prisoner’s_ offer of a blowjob, especially during work hours, was a bold move.  And maybe a little bit stupid.  But Lowell had been guilty of thinking with his crotch rather than his brain on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t hold that against the kid.

Bastian’s whines, despite being muffled as well as they could be against his palm, were starting to rise in both volume and frequency.  His helmet clanged conspicuously off the bars as he leaned his head against them, and the metal attachments on his belt rattled as he jerked his hips erratically, seeking more of the hot wetness of Lowell’s mouth.

Lowell was sure they were going to get caught.  If not by another guard, resulting in Bastian being fired and Lowell being _executed_ , probably, then by Zael and the others, resulting in Lowell never being able to look any of them in the eye ever again.  He’d probably pick the execution, personally.

But then there was a rough hand in Lowell’s hair, grabbing hard and pulling closer, and Lowell’s head was wedged uncomfortably between the cell bars, and Bastian’s cock was touching the back of Lowell’s tongue, and Lowell was trying not to choke, and Bastian cried out, eyes screwed shut, as he came down Lowell’s throat.

Bastian let go, panting, and Lowell moved back.  Bastian’s cock slid wetly out of his mouth.  He swallowed instinctively, and coughed, bringing a hand up to wipe at his lips.  Lowell felt his own cock pressing uncomfortably at the inside of his pants, and he hoped against hope there’d be time for him to have a quick wank before his buddies returned from their adventure.

Standing up, Lowell’s knees groaned, and he did too, leaning heavily against the bars.  He watched as Bastian put himself away and buttoned his jacket up again.  His cheeks were still pleasantly pink, and he looked understandably flustered.

Unable to resist, Lowell cooed, “Was it good for you?”

Bastian’s blush darkened.  He took a moment to compose himself, then said, “I’ll be back to check on you in half an hour.  If your friends aren’t back by then, I’ll report the lot of you.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”  Lowell tried the wink again.  It worked this time, and Bastian spluttered and turned away from the cell, flicking his visor down again.  He walked away, and Lowell watched him go, smiling to himself.  It may have been a stupid idea, but it worked out better than he thought it would.  _Much_ better.

* * *

 

(He waited until Bastian was out of sight, and then waited a little longer, before he sat down heavily in the back of the cell and shoved his hand down his trousers, his scarf bunched in his mouth to quiet him.  When he came, hard and fast in his hand, he came thinking of brown eyes and breathy whines, and he thought maybe he _would_ look Bastian up when they all got out of there after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> "the guard came three times while you were away." oh, i BET he did.


End file.
